


sunflower

by thereisnoreality



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Melancholy, Post-Divorce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24565648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereisnoreality/pseuds/thereisnoreality
Summary: “You wanna fuck, Johnny?”Johnny nearly chokes on his scotch, surprised. “What?”Donghyuck shrugs, looking unfazed at his reaction. “You don’t have to, you know. I won’t be offended, I mean, Igetit. I’m just offering.”“Um-” Johnny casts wildly around for the semblance of a thought but all he can summon is, “Why?”Donghyuck smiles. “Because you’re sad, and I’m sad and I’ve been thinking a lot about perspective and life today, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I want to do something different for once - I want to reallylive, like I’ve never done before - and fucking a sad stranger in the bathroom of a bar seems like the right thing to do right now. In this moment. And I’m not going to question it.”
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 166
Kudos: 616





	sunflower

**Author's Note:**

> so. i have written a lot this week and all of it was sad and angry because life is kinda sad and angry rn. i had these two sad fics that i kind of smushed together and it somehow, miraculously turned into this.
> 
> i'm still not sure if i'm very happy with this or if its even any good but i decided to post it anyway because this is my catharsis in fic form and i hope it can be something like that for you too
> 
> theme music: To Build a Home - The Cinematic Orchestra 
> 
> a big thank you to mon and jesse for looking this over for me <3

“You look sad.”

Johnny smirks down at his glass, tracing the rim with his finger. He doesn’t look up. “Do I?”

The stranger sighs, settling their weight solidly against the bar. Out of the corner of his eye, Johnny spies a slim wrist, a silver bracelet. “Why are you sad in a bar?” 

“Couldn’t figure out where else would be better and I don’t exactly have a house I want to be at right now.” Well, not a good one, but Johnny doesn’t want to think about that.

The stranger laughs and it sounds like the crackle of a fire, warm and throaty. “I suppose that’s not a bad decision. Can I buy you a drink, then? If you’re insistent on staying sad here?”

Finally, Johnny looks up and meets bright eyes. The man sitting beside him is sweating from the crowd, enough that his shirt sticks to a deeply golden chest, the ends of his warm brown hair flattened down, his lip tucked under pearly teeth as he waits for Johnny’s response. Johnny frowns. “Why do you want to buy a sad stranger a drink?”

“‘Cause I think he’s handsome,” the man says with a pretty smile, a mild southern twang hidden under that round mouth. 

And Johnny can’t help the small smile that curves over his own face in answer. It’a a flippant remark, probably not meant in any other way but blandly superficial but it cheers Johnny up, just a little. “Scotch,” he says quietly. “Single malt.”

The man makes a face. “That’s an old man drink,” he observes.

“I think I could be counted as an old man by now,” Johnny sighs. The years stretch out to him in both ways, now. The past full of vivid memories, of pain, of aches that weigh down his bones. Before, Johnny would have seen the same for his future, but brighter, happier, without all the pain. Now, all he sees is a blank pavement, gray cement stretching out for as far as his eye can see. Blank and empty. “That would be an accurate assessment.” 

“I’m not that young either but you sound like you’re this close to picking out nursing homes,” the man says, a tiny wrinkle to his nose and Johnny snorts. The man orders for both of them and then turns back to face him, an inquisitive look on his features. “How old is old?” 

Johnny laughs a little. “Is that the way you pick someone up nowadays? Insult their age?”

“I didn’t insult your age,” the man says, with a pretty twist to his smile. “I insulted your drink choice. And who says I’m trying to pick you up, old man?” 

“You make a habit of buying sad old men drinks?”

“Only if they’re incredibly handsome.”

In spite of himself, Johnny’s smile widens. It feels unused, cracking at the edges, like he’s been covered in plaster set out to dry for too long. “What’s your name, stranger?”

“Donghyuck,” the man says. The bartender slides the drink down the bar to him and he passes it over to Johnny, leaning closer as the music and the sound of the crowd swells for a beat. “And you are?”

“Johnny,” Johnny says, holding out his hand. Donghyuck takes it, still gazing at him and Johnny meets his gaze squarely. Donghyuck’s hand is warm and dry, calluses on the sides of his fingers. 

“Why are you sad, Johnny?” Donghyuck asks, pulling away and taking a sip of his drink. Johnny doesn’t know what it is but it’s fizzing and full of lime slices. A far better choice than single malt scotch but Johnny’s unfortunately set in his ways. His old, old ways. “It’s a lovely Friday night.”

“It’s been raining all day,” Johnny points out. He’d know, he spent half the day moving out of his previous home. A place he’d lived in for six years; today he’d left it behind in the review mirror of the clunky moving truck he’d rented, the remnants of the past six years of his life hastily shoved into whatever boxes would hold them.

“I love the rain,” Donghyuck shrugs. “It puts things in perspective.”

“Yeah?” Johnny asks. “What do you need to have perspective over?”

Donghyuck sighs, tipping his head to the side as he considers his drink. “I lost a patient today,” he says, softly. “I liked her too. She was smart and funny. So fucking funny… I mean, I work in a hospital, I have too many things around me every single day to give me perspective but…”

“The rain helps?”

Donghyuck hums. “Yeah.”

Johnny considers him. Donghyuck looks youthful. He doesn’t look like someone who walks around shoulder to shoulder with death daily. But Johnny himself feels too old now to be in the body he does, feels too run down by time, too weary. Time makes fools of them all, he supposes. “I moved out of my house today. The one I shared with my husband. Well, ex-husband, I guess, now. Six years we were married and in a day-” Johnny snorts. “One day. One rainy day and it’s all over.” Split down the middle and nothing left in the wake but a gaping silence and the click of the front door softly shutting behind him.

Donghyuck looks at him. “That’s a pretty shitty thing,” he says quietly. 

“Perspective,” Johnny agrees wryly. He isn’t dead, he’s still alive. He’s still drinking good scotch. He’s sitting across a pretty stranger having a pretty strange conversation. Perspective matters.

Donghyuck smiles at him. Johnny tips his drink into his mouth. It burns all the way down, but this time, it’s a different kind of burn. 

“You wanna fuck, Johnny?”

Johnny nearly chokes on his scotch, surprised. “What?”

Donghyuck shrugs, looking unfazed at his reaction. His finger traces circles in the condensation that has dripped down to the bar, the silver bracelet jangling softly under the music, the chatter of a hundred different people with a hundred different lives. “You don’t have to, you know. I won’t be offended, I mean, I _get_ it. I’m just offering.”

“Um-” Johnny casts wildly around for the semblance of a thought but all he can summon is, “ _Why_?”

Donghyuck smiles. “Because you’re sad, and I’m sad and I’ve been thinking a lot about perspective and life today, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I want to do something different for once - I want to really _live,_ like I’ve never done before- and fucking a sad stranger in the bathroom of a bar seems like the right thing to do right now. In this moment. And I’m not going to question it.”

Johnny stares at him. The burning hasn’t subsided quite yet. “You’re serious.”

“I am.” Donghyuck finishes his drink and slides gracefully off the stool. “I’m going to wash my hands and you can join me if you like. No hard feelings if you don’t though. A nice conversation with a handsome man was plenty enough.” He smiles and waves his fingers in a mini goodbye before sliding through the crowd to the bathrooms on the other side of the bar. 

Johnny watches him go and then looks down at his glass. Looks down at his empty ring finger, the tan line laying there starkly after years and years. He finishes his drink and gets up off the stool to head in the direction of the bathroom. 

Donghyuck is warm and soft all over. He holds onto Johnny tightly enough that Johnny can practically feel his capillaries bursting under his skin, blooming red and yellow to transform into finger-shaped bruises of purple and blue in the coming days, and pants into his ear with small noises that send shivers running down his back and his legs tighten around Johnny in an unfamiliar way. Not a wholly unwelcome way, though. 

“God,” Johnny groans, hauling up him up higher. The bathroom door opens just as Donghyuck lets out a high pitched noise. There’s a groan and the stranger shuts the door behind them as they leave, muttering to themselves as they go.

Donghyuck lets out a breathless laugh. “I think we just - _oh_ \- just ruined someone’s night.”

“You made mine,” Johnny murmurs, too truthful, too quick, but Donghyuck’s laugh is resounding, bouncing off the tiled walls of the bathroom.

He peels his head off the wall and wraps a warm hand around Johnny’s cheek to kiss him deeply. Donghyuck tastes like lime and something sharp underneath. The kiss feels like honey sliding down his throat, heavy and sweet. Coating his insides until that burning flares up higher and higher. 

Johnny savours it. Savours him. This pretty stranger who turned his whole night around. He pulls him closer. 

Their moans bounce off each other, echo around and around until Johnny’s head spins and he forgets everything, lets go of everything in favour of the taste of Donghyuck’s mouth and the way he holds Johnny tightly as he falls apart, breathless and so good. 

They part ways before they exit the bathroom. Donghyuck leaves with a soft kiss on his cheek. “I hope your sadness leaves you soon, old man,” he says softly, eyes shimmering up at Johnny, his hand clenching Johnny’s sleeve for balance. 

“I hope yours does too,” Johnny tells him honestly and Donghyuck smiles. It’s sweet and somehow, the burning subsides. Just a little. 

The door shuts behind him with a decisive click and the music swells again. 

Perspective is a funny thing. 

🌻

You never think the last time is going to be the last time. 

It’s odd, when you don’t lay an expectation out for your brain - when you don’t say _this is it_. _No more. This is the last time._ Your mind doesn’t know how to comprehend it and the temptation - because there is no barrier, there is no line drawn in the sand - becomes even greater. 

Johnny quit smoking three years ago. It hadn’t been a forethought decision - he hadn’t struggled with it for years, starting and stopping and starting again until it got to be too much. One morning, on a sunny day in September, Johnny woke up in his shitty apartment with his shitty editing software still open on his shitty laptop lying next to him to a quite shitty phonecall from his mother telling his aunt had died from lung cancer. 

Eunji had been Johnny’s favourite aunt; she’d bought him his first camera, taught him exactly what to say to the pretty girl who lived in the corner house down the street and had been his first client when he graduated college and became a proper photographer. Johnny loved her. And that morning he had rolled out of bed and retrieved every single cigarette from every hiding place along with his lighters and had marched down to the dumpster behind their apartment building, tossing them away without a second thought. 

And he never went back. 

The thing is though, last times are supposed to be momentous. They’re supposed to live in your mind, give you a memory, give you something to look back on when you want to go back. So you remember _not_ to go back. 

Johnny can’t remember his last smoke. 

You never think the last time is going to be just that. Not when you don’t expect it. 

Johnny does remember the worst last time, though. Fucking ironic, isn’t it? When his fingers itch for a cigarette and his lungs start burning for that rush of nicotine, he has nothing to look back on. But _this_ \- this he remembers in perfect clarity. 

Exactly five months ago, Doyoung kisses Johnny one last time. It’s perfunctory, almost like an afterthought and Johnny remembers it perfectly. Because it was the last time before the divorce papers had been handed to him. Because it was the last time - but Johnny hadn’t expected it to be. 

🌻

Life is hard. 

It really sucks for a long time. Johnny moves into a small apartment in the middle of the city. It’s hideously overpriced and in a bad neighbourhood, and the neighbours fuck way too often and too loudly to be healthy but Johnny likes it nonetheless, in his own morbid way. He gets a plant and watches despairingly as it dies no matter what he does and then he goes out and gets a cactus. It’s still alive and Johnny counts that as a win. 

He shoots a thousand engagements, a thousand weddings, a thousand happy moments full of happy couples and he tries his hardest not to be bitter through it all because just because love hadn’t worked out for him doesn’t mean it wouldn’t for anyone else. 

And at the end of the day he comes back to his empty apartment with its bare walls and unopened boxes and his one, vibrantly green, cactus and he tries not to wallow. Tries not to let himself slip into the misery that is always hanging at the back of his mind, like blackout curtains ready to fall, thick and heavy across everything. It works sometimes. Other times it doesn’t.

It’s also kind of lonely. When Johnny left the house - left Doyoung - he left their whole life behind, left their friends, left the people he’d grown close to, had had those perfect suburban barbecues with, left comfort, familiarity, all of it. All of it in favour of starting over again. 

It’s strange. 

Johnny kind of feels like a kid again, like he did when he first left home, when he moved to the city to start college, the tall buildings stretching up around him, the rush of life overwhelming all over again, hitting him fast and hard. He feels like a kid - alone and fighting hard just to keep his head above water.

He’s alone and things kind of suck for a while.

Johnny doesn’t let himself get used to it, though. Life has a way of bowling you over at the worst times and in his case, months later, under a dreary Monday afternoon in spring, the clouds finally bowing to the weight of the skies and the heavens opening up to flood the streets below, the bowling ball comes in the form of Yuta. 

“I don’t like being tied down,” Johnny says, pushing the contract back over. His coat sleeve drags along the table, leaving a faint trail of damp as it goes.

Yuta doesn’t even look up from his annoyingly practical Blackberry as he shoves it back over the table. “Change your thinking,” he says flatly. “I’m offering you a steady pay, good work hours and maybe even a vacation a year if you’re nice to me. Which you are _not_ right now.” He looks over the top of his sunglasses and flashes Johnny a shark’s smile full of gleaming white teeth. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

He reminds Johnny so much of Doyoung, it’s a little frightening. It’s the same attitude - breezy but calculated. Charming but underlined with cool menace. Johnny looks down at his hands. His coat is damp from the rain and his umbrella had decided to give out on him as soon as he’d opened the door to the cafe. His bank account is running low; no one likes weddings in the winter. And he has no future plans. No one to change for, no one to listen to. Nothing to anticipate. 

“You’re terrifying for a wedding planner, you know that?” Johnny says finally. 

“I have to be, my clients are monsters.” Yuta sets his phone down and takes off his sunglasses, looking Johnny straight in the eye. “Take the job - don’t be an idiot.” 

“Don’t give me special treatment,” Johnny manages. He’s too old to brush aside the painful prick to his dignity this causes. Johnny Seo is a household name - well, in those households that are chock full of photography enthusiasts - but it’s hard to keep being such a name when your work dwindles, when your muse leaves - when _you_ leave your muse behind, when everything that made up that muse shatters into pieces, leaving behind a trail of quietly signed papers and a half empty home - when your photographs splinter at the edges, bare and broken. A mere shadow of what they used to be. 

Yuta rolls his eyes. “Don’t be an idiot,” he repeats, taking a sip of his espresso. Johnny remembers in college Yuta refusing to touch any caffeine that wasn’t piled high with at least six inches of whipped cream and chocolate shavings and smiles to himself. Yuta continues, “I’m not hiring you because of nostalgia or anything. That would be a terrible financial decision. I’m hiring you because I need a solid, stable wedding photographer I can recommend to clients so _they_ don’t shatter my eardrums with their shrieking after the third set of photos comes out wrong and _you_ need a change. It’s a win win.”

“I didn’t think those existed,” Johnny says wryly. “My luck has never been that good.” 

“Well,” Yuta says, setting his cup down with a decisive clink. His smile is softer. “You found one now. Your luck’s finally changing, John. Congratulations.”

🌻

So life gets better. 

He likes working for Yuta. The days are either long and never ending or they never start because Johnny doesn’t have a client to shoot and he spends his days at home, trying to unpack a box, failing miserably and turning finally to editing. The months pass like that, spring turning into summer, into fall again and everything gets better, bit by bit.

And then Johnny gets hit by a tree. 

It turns out there are one, actually _two_ people - _insane_ people - who want to get married in a rainstorm. There’s no thunder or lightning, which is fortunate, but the canopy fits all fifty of the guests, along with several terrified caterers and waiters that are sheltered under it, shuddering with every gust of wind and the rain is leaking down the fabric and plopping onto every expensively dressed, horrified looking guest. They’re sheltered for the most part under the huge tree that sits in the center of the park and the branches shadows look beautiful, whipping over the bright white fabric, looking like they were dancing to their own music, curling and twisting to the song of the wind. 

The bride and groom look like they’re having the time of their lives, however. Their smiles are wide and full of joy and their hands clutch onto each other, breaking off to laugh between every sentence in their vows. They look like they’re in their own world. 

Johnny would appreciate that, because it has been way too long since he saw something that pure and wild, that _passionate_ , if he weren’t also scared of having his camera getting leaky rainwater all over it. 

The rain roars behind the bride and groom just as they lean in for a kiss and Johnny steps back, just far enough outside the canopy so that his suit jacket gets soaked and gets a dozen pictures of them, illuminated in the warm orange lights, surrounded by rain. He checks the photos and smiles when he sees them. Happiness really was the most luminous thing in the world, ever uncontained, ever joyful, even when the fury of mother nature was swirling around them all. 

Yuta for his part, looks like he’s on top of the fucking world, running around the tent, barking orders at anyone and everyone, a bright grin fixed to his face. Johnny has to give him credit, it only looks a little sharky tonight. 

The rain calms down marginally as they move into dinner and Johnny manages to get several nice shots of the guests not looking mortally terrified which is nice. The worst of it picks up when they move outside, however. The bride and groom had specifically requested a shot of them in the rain and Johnny follows them out of the canopy to the car, a plastic cover above his head and camera. 

There’s a large cracking sound somewhere above him and screams follow and Johnny pulls the tarp off his head just in time to see a large branch snap off the tree that had been looming over the tent and hurtle down towards him and then everything goes black. 

🌻

Johnny opens his eyes with a groan. There’s white - too much white - and then there’s Yuta’s face hovering over his, his mouth pinched and eyes wild and wide. 

“Johnny?” Yuta demands and his voice seems like a blur, too fast and too slow all at the same time. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?” 

Johnny frowns at him. The world is blurry at the edges and his head _hurts_. “‘at happened?” He mumbles, trying to sit up but Yuta pushes him back down. He’s at the hospital, Johnny realises. There’s a curtain drawn around his bed and he can hear the PA announcements go off overhead, calling for doctors. 

“You got hit on the head,” Yuta tells him, his face twisted in concern. “How do you feel? Can you remember anything?”

Everything comes back to Johnny then and he groans, dropping his head back on the bed and instantly regretting it as pain shoots down his neck, reverberating up into his head. “A tree took me out,” he grates out.

Yuta makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a snort and Johnny thinks about punching him. Unfortunately his hand doesn’t seem to get the message. “Um - yes.”

“A _tree_.” 

“Indeed,” a different voice says cheerfully and the curtain gets yanked back, revealing a blindingly white room with several empty beds and bustling doctors before it closes again. “It must have been a really big branch to take you out that cleanly - _oh_. Hello again.”

Johnny props himself up on his elbows, struggling to stay upright and nearly loses his balance when he sees who’s standing at the side of his bed, clutching a clipboard. “Oh,” he echoes. Months and months later, here they were again.

Life really is a funny thing. 

Yuta looks in between them. “What?” He asks. “Am I missing something here? Do you two know each other?”

Johnny blinks at Donghyuck, who’s still staring at him, a tiny amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. All of a sudden, Johnny inexplicably remembers exactly how that mouth tastes when it’s parted around a breathy moan and he flushes, laying back down on the bed. His head starts throbbing harder. 

“Barely,” Donghyuck dismisses, snapping on a new pair of gloves and smiling down at Johnny. “We met a while ago at a bar.”

“Months ago,” Johnny says roughly. Yuta raises an eyebrow at him, a smirk curling about his mouth. “It’s been… How are you?”

Donghyuck leans over him, clicking a flashlight over his eyes. “Look left and then right for me?” He asks, bracing his fingers on Johnny’s jaw, keeping his head level. Johnny follows his directions. “How does that feel?” 

“Dizzy,” Johnny mutters and Donghyuck hums. 

“Yeah, I can imagine.”

Yuta gets a phone call and he curses, hastily pulling it out of his pocket. “I have to take this, its the clients. Johnny-”

“Go,” Johnny says, waving his hand. “I’m fine.”

The curtain slides shut again behind Yuta as he runs off. Johnny flinches when Donghyuck presses at the side of his head. “Ow.” 

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck murmurs, leaning closer to Johnny. Johnny glances up at him. his eyes are narrowed at the side of Johnny’s head and his lips are pursed in concentration. Johnny feels the heat rise on his cheeks and he looks away. “I’m trying to see the cuts under the bleeding. You have a lot of hair.” 

Johnny tilts his head as best he can. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Donghyuck smiles. “How are _you_ , old man? Other than getting a tree to the head.”

Johnny winces as Donghyuck’s fingers brush against a tender spot. “I asked first.”

“Don’t argue with your doctor,” Donghyuck mumbles distractedly. “I have to clean this more, it’s going to sting, okay? Turn your head as best as you can for me but don’t strain your neck. I’m amazed you don’t seem to have a concussion.” 

“Mmm.” Johnny follows his orders, swallowing hard when the hydrogen peroxide hits his wound. “I’m doing good, I guess. I was better this morning when I didn’t have a giant lump on my head. You?” 

Donghyuck laughs a little. “I’m good,” he says warmly. “All of my patients have lived this month, that’s pretty much a miracle.” 

“Or just good doctoring.”

Donghyuck glances down at him, eyes dancing with amusement. His eyes are a warm brown. They’re very pretty, Johnny realises. 

“You may be right.” Donghyuck steps away and snaps off his gloves. “Okay, you’re pretty good right now. I want to get a couple scans just to make sure this is all superficial and then you should be free to go.”

Johnny tries to sit up, to thank him properly, but Donghyuck _tsks_ and sets a hand on his shoulder, lightly pressing him back down. “Don’t sit up, I don’t want the dizziness to get worse.”

Johnny lays back down and watches through the corner of his eyes as Donghyuck fills out his chart. “Donghyuck,” he says quietly. “Thank you.” He watches as Donghyuck’s smile grows, still looking down at the forms and feels quietly pleased by it. Donghyuck was still so pretty - more, actually, than when they had first met. Though that might be the head wound speaking.

“That sadness still hovering around?” Donghyuck asks, looking up at him through his lashes. Johnny feels the quiet burning spark to life again, at the base of his ribs, flickering and trembling in the faint wind. 

Johnny smiles. “It’s on and off. More off than on these days. How’s living in the moment going?”

Donghyuck’s smile widens. “It’s on and off.” The space in between them swells and recedes and Johnny feels breathless in it. He doesn’t want this moment to end - not yet. 

“I’ll be back when your scans come back,” Donghyuck murmurs. He visibly hesitates and then lays a hand on Johnny’s arm before pulling the curtain aside, a smirk shot Johnny’s way as he goes. “It was nice to see you again, old man.”

Johnny watches him go.

The burning intensifies.

Definitely _not_ the head wound then.

🌻

Johnny can’t stop thinking about Donghyuck. It’s kind of ruining his everyday life at this point. His head has almost perfectly healed, and he’s been cleared to go back to work and it’s been weeks and he can’t stop. He can’t get Donghyuck out of his head.

It hadn’t been like this last time. Last time, Johnny had been able to put Donghyuck out of his head long before the bruises left on his back in the shape of Donghyuck’s fingers had faded, long before the burning at the bottom of his stomach had abated. Long before all the physical reminders of their time together had disappeared, Johnny had stopped thinking about him. But now, every single goddamn thing reminds him of Donghyuck. It’s odd - there’s nothing about Donghyuck that should keep him thinking about him. He was pretty, yes, and kind to Johnny but Johnny had met many kind and pretty people and there was nothing about Donghyuck that should have kept him wondering. Except _everything_ did. Johnny couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes, and the faint pout of his lips when he spoke, and the way his cheeks had misted pink under Johnny’s gaze. 

Every single thing about him made Johnny want to go back. But -

“Oh, will you please just get your head out of your ass and go ask him out on a date before I kill you?” Yuta snaps finally. 

Johnny looks up from his laptop in confusion. They’re in Yuta’s office, the rain lashing against the windows. It’s not cold enough to snow yet but it’s getting there and the only reason Johnny is still sitting at work this late and keeping Yuta company is because Yuta offered to pay for dinner and Johnny wasn’t about to turn down a free meal for a little bit of rain. “What?” He asks, blinking. “Who?”

“Don’t play with me,” Yuta narrows his eyes at him. “You couldn’t tear your eyes away from that doctor the whole time you were at the hospital.”

Johnny narrows his eyes right back. “You weren’t even there, you abandoned me to run after your weeping bride.”

“She paid for your hospital bills, didn’t she?” Yuta asks archly. “Who do you think curried that sympathy for you?"

"I got hit in the head by a tree because of her and her insane ideas," Johnny says grumpily. "It was the least she could do."

Yuta points at him. "Don't change the subject. You knew him."

"Barely," Johnny looks away and fiddles with the track pad of his laptop. He can feel his cheeks heat under Yuta's stare and knows it's only a matter of second before Yuta clocks in and he wants to -

Yuta's mouth drops open. "You fucked him didn't you?"

Johnny grimaces and Yuta crows, leaning over his desk, palms flat on the table. "You _did!_ At the bar?"

"It was -" Johnny screws up his face. "It was the day I left Doy - moved out. I moved to a new place and I found the nearest bar and I was sad and he was just... _There_."

Donghyuck has been there and he’d been pretty and so fucking smart and an excellent fuck and had lifted Johnny out of the fog that had rolled over him, coated him the whole day, even if it had just been for a _moment._ And Johnny- Johnny remembers almost every second of that night, even though it's nearly been a year. Even though it's way past the time he should have stopped. Even though -

"You don't need to make excuses," Yuta shrugs, leaning back his chair. There's a smile still tugging at the edge of his mouth though it's softer now. "Why don't you ask him out?"

Johnny shrugs in response, unable to meet Yuta's gaze. There are a lot of reasons, not all of them he wants to say out loud. There's the fact that it hasn’t even been a year since he got divorced. The fact that last week, he found a gray hair buried on the front part of his head. The fact that Donghyuck was so bright and beautiful, even when he was sad and Johnny was so easily sucked into his whirlpool, even when it felt like he was already drowning. "Lots of reasons," Johnny says finally.

"I bet they're all stupid," Yuta snorts. When Johnny glares up at him, he holds up a hand. "I'm not going to say anything more, but I think you should give it a chance. Just because your marriage failed, doesn't mean you don't deserve another chance to be happy, Johnny."

Johnny makes a face. He's pretty sure there's at least one other person in the world who would disagree with that.

🌻

It's raining.

Johnny sighs and stares out the window. Yuta's words have been running around in his head nonstop and Donghyuck's face has been following it, his smile pretty and wide.

He doesn't think Donghyuck would say yes, doesn't believe that for a second but it would be nice if he did. Johnny would like to learn more about Donghyuck, would like to have more conversations with him about the weirdness of life. Would like to spend more time with him.

The probability of that is low, though.

The hospital is far more crowded than it was when Johnny came and it takes him a second to find the welcome desk. He gets several strange looks but Johnny ignores all of them in favour of clearing his throat when he reaches the desk.

"Can I help you?" The woman at the front desk asks, not looking up from her computer.

"I'm looking for uh," Johnny casts around and realises with a flush of shame that he doesn't know what Donghyuck's last name is. "Um. Donghyuck, he's a doctor here."

The typing stops and the woman looks up at him, an eyebrow arched at him. "Dr. Lee?" She asks. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No," Johnny says. "Um-"

"Then I can't help you." The woman looks back down. "Dr. Lee is very busy and we can't just -"

"Johnny?"

Johnny turns to see Donghyuck frowning at him from across the hall. "Hey," he says, a smile appearing on his face at the sight.

"Are you okay?" Donghyuck demands, hurrying to him nearly slamming into a crowd of doctors as he goes. "Are you hurt?" He reaches Johnny and reaches for him, before he realises what he's doing and steps back, biting his lower lip. "Are you - what's wrong?"

"I'm okay," Johnny says hurriedly. He casts a look behind him to see every single one of the receptionists have stopped typing, clearly listening in and coughs in embarrassment. "I'm totally fine, I just - uh - I just wanted to see you."

"Oh." Donghyuck looks up at him and flushes, pink blooming over the round curves of his cheeks. "Oh, um. Me too, actually. I'm - I'm glad you came back.”

Johnny shoves his hands in his pockets, wincing when the fabric squelches under his touch. He needs to buy a better umbrella. "Can we talk somewhere else?"

"Yeah." Donghyuck seems to realise then that everyone in the nearby vicinity is still trying to listen to them and tips his head to the side. "Follow me."

He casts a glance sideways at Johnny as they move through the halls. "Why is it always raining when I see you?"

Johnny smiles. "It must be my good luck charm."

Donghyuck blinks and then blushes harder. Johnny absently wonders how low that pretty pink goes. He wants to find out. 

They come to a stop at the end of the hallway by a vending machine and Donghyuck looks at him expectantly. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Johnny takes a deep breath. Just a chance. Just a low probability. It’s been nearly a year. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

There's silence.

It’s agonising. Johnny keep looking at Donghyuck, not having the strength to look away but his face is blank. And Johnny is just about to step away, step back and is about to apologise for bothering Donghyuck and leave while the last remaining bit of his dignity is still intact when Donghyuck answers.

"I'd love to," he says quietly, a grin stretching out across his pretty mouth. "I'd really - I'd love to go on a date with you, Johnny."

"Oh," Johnny says. Sighs. He swallows. "Now?"

Donghyuck laughs. "My shift doesn't end until two am," he says, leaning back against the wall and sparkling up at Johnny, his eyes crinkling up cutely. No adult should look that cute.

"Good point," Johnny says, cheeks flaming. "Lunch? Tomorrow?"

"Perfect," Donghyuck says sweetly.

"Yeah," Johnny echoes, unable to stop the smile curling over his face. "Perfect."

🌻

It’s raining _again_.

“It’s always raining,” Johnny says as a greeting when he meets Donghyuck outside the hospital. He bought a new umbrella on his way over - solid and bright yellow, with a heavy wooden handle, and it's big enough to cover the two of them.

“At least you’re not soaking wet this time,” Donghyuck shoots back without missing a beat, wrinkling his nose playfully up at him. “You looked like a mop yesterday.”

“And you still said yes,” Johnny marvels.

“And I still said yes,” Donghyuck agrees. "You should count yourself lucky."

 _I do. With you_ , Johnny thinks but all he does is smile down at Donghyuck and offer him his elbow as they cross the street.

"So," Donghyuck says when they get to the restaurant. He leans back in his chair and smiles. "We're here."

"Nearly a year later," Johnny agrees.

"Some would say that's serendipity."

Johnny hums thoughtfully. "I don't think I believe in something as frivolous as serendipity." There's a beat of silence and then Johnny winces. "Was that rude? I'm sorry, I haven't been on a first date in," he huffs ruefully, running a hand through his hair. "God, a _decade_ now."

Donghyuck throws his head back and laughs. "You're forgiven," he says brightly, eyes shining over at Johnny. The sunlight streaming through the bistro's windows, through the thick, heavy clouds, has nothing on him. "A decade's a long time, I think you can be excused."

"Thank you," Johnny says, biting his lower lip.

"You were with your ex-husband for ten years?" Donghyuck asks and there's something wistful in his gaze.

"Um, yeah," Johnny says before hesitating. "Do you - do you really want to ask about my ex on our first date?"

"Why not?" Donghyuck shrugs. "We met under kinda shitty circumstances, why bother sugarcoating it? He was a big part of your life and I’d like to know about him. If you’re okay with that."

"Good point." Johnny pokes at the bread on his plate before clearing his throat. "Yeah, um, I was with Doyoung - my ex - for that - for a decade."

"That's a long time," Donghyuck observes. His lips twist wryly. "I was in school for that long."

Despite himself, Johnny chuckles. "What made you want to be a doctor?"

"My mom," Donghyuck says, with a sweet smile. "She was a doctor, a pediatrician, I practically grew up in her practice."

"You didn't want to work with kids?"

Donghyuck wrinkles his nose. "No, I like the ER better, it's more of a challenge. What do you do, Johnny?"

"I'm a photographer," Johnny says.

"Ah, that's right, your friend, the one who came in with you, he's a wedding planner isn't he?"

"Yeah, Yuta. I work for him right now but I - I used to do more. Before."

Donghyuck doesn't look judgmental. "Before you got divorced?" Johnny nods. "What exactly did you take pictures of?"

"Everything," Johnny says, a faint smile creeping to his face as he thinks about his old exhibitions. His first exhibition, as a proper photographer, was where he'd first met Doyoung. He'd been impressed, Johnny remembers, wide eyes staring at the photographs, his arms tightly tucked around his torso. Even back then, he'd been so closed off, so wary. Johnny had wanted to impress him more, wanted to get him to unfold, to open up for him. "My first exhibition was people though - the strangest, most fascinating people I could find. People wearing costumes, makeup, anything that caught my eye. There was a guy wearing an Elmo costume, I remember."

Donghyuck's smile is soft. "That sounds amazing, Johnny. You got to do that every day?"

"Pretty much."

"We're very lucky, aren't we?" Donghyuck asks thoughtfully. He pops a piece of bread into his mouth. "To get to do what we love every single day and to make a living off it. There’s not a lot of people who can claim that."

Johnny thinks about it. "I suppose we are," he says quietly. He doesn't feel lucky some days. Some days he wakes up in his still bare apartment and feels so worn down, aching all over the edges, it feels like the world will never tip back from grey again. "I haven't thought about myself like that in a while."

Donghyuck tips his head to the side. "Why ever not?"

Johnny shrugs and looks down. "That sadness, you know."

"On and off," Donghyuck murmurs. They sit there in silence and then Johnny laughs abruptly.

"This is a terrible first date isn't it? I'm sorry."

"Why do you think that?" Donghyuck asks and his eyes are piercing. Warm but sharp. Johnny thinks he could drown in them. "I'm having a good time, stop apologising."

Johnny huffs, relief staining all over him. He's sure his cheeks are painted red. "Why? _How_?"

Donghyuck leans across the table and puts his hand on Johnny's outstretched one and without thinking Johnny flips his hand over to interlace their fingers. "Because," Donghyuck says. "I didn't mind leaving that bathroom a year ago, I didn't mind leaving _you._ But that doesn't mean you haven't run through my mind at least once since then." He huffs, a gentle smile curling over his mouth. "Besides, I _really_ minded letting you go in that ER."

"I wanted to have more conversations with you," Johnny admits without thinking about it. "You - I liked talking to you. A lot. So much."

Donghyuck's eyes sparkle. "Me too," he whispers and it feels like a secret unfolding between the two of them. Spilling gracefully out onto the table and stretching out to either side. The sun shines down upon them, in a single spotlight before the clouds rolls over it again and suddenly, strangely, the world doesn't seem all that grey.

🌻

They kiss for the first time - the second, first time - on the third date. Donghyuck takes Johnny to the Modern Art museum and they linger for the longest time in the photography gallery. Donghyuck listens carefully to every single one of Johnny’s eager explanations, whispered in the gap between them, and later, they go to the park and feed the birds. Johnny watches Donghyuck laugh as the heavens open up around them and drizzling rain starts to mist finely across the top of his caramel curls and aches for his camera. To capture this moment in infinity before it all fades away. 

And when they’re about to leave the park, as the clouds grow darker and the thunder rolls in the distance, Donghyuck looks up, at the same time Johnny looks down at him and they step into each other easily. Johnny’s hands curve around Donghyuck’s waist and his cheeks burn when Donghyuck cups them between his hands. The kiss is sweet and soft. Lingering. 

Rainwater drips into the space between their mouths and Johnny laughs a little, leaning back in to press one more long, careful kiss to the bow of Donghyuck’s upturned mouth before he pulls away. 

“I’m glad you said yes,” Johnny confesses and Donghyuck is his own personal sun, beaming up at him, warming him up like no other. 

“I’m glad you came back,” he whispers back.

“How’s this for living in the moment?” Johnny asks quietly as he ducks back in for another kiss. It’s hard to pull away. This isn’t going to be the last time but it’s still so hard.

“Oh, this is a good one,” Donghyuck says softly, happily. Johnny never wants to let him go. “This moment, this one, this is perfect.”

🌻

The first anniversary of Johnny's divorce rolls around quietly. It's a sunny day and Johnny wakes up to a text from Yuta declaring loudly in all caps: **DO NOT COME IN I WILL KICK YOUR ASS IF YOU DO JUST GO EAT SOME COTTON CANDY AND LOOK AT THE CLOUDS OR SOMETHING.**

And so Johnny rolls back over in bed - the only piece of furniture he'd built, other than a shitty chest of drawers, when he'd moved in - and goes right back to sleep.

He wakes up around noon, stomach grumbling very insistently for food and after a revoltingly cold shower, stumbles out of his apartment for food, dragging his coat around him. It's one of those days where the wind is bitingly cold, sharp and snapping at the tips of his ears and fingers, sneaking into every crevice of his clothing, while the sun shines brightly down. Bright enough for his eyes to hurt.

His hair is getting too long these days, whipping into his eyes. Johnny considers being responsible and going to get it cut but he doesn't want to be responsible, not today. He just wants to eat some greasy food and maybe get a little drunk. He wants to not think today.

The tan line on the fourth finger has faded now. It’s still there, if you look closely enough. You can still see the outline. Johnny pulls on his gloves and strides down the sidewalk.

The burger is good and Johnny sits on the bench in the park, sheltered behind some trees from the wind, and scarfs it all down. Then he methodically eats all of the fries, one by one and then finally, he picks up the milkshake and finishes it off.

A dog runs by him, barking loudly and a laughing kid chases after it, her mittened hands outstretched, braids flying behind her. Johnny watches them go.

He pulls out his phone and takes pictures of the dogs that run past him, of the sunlight filtering through the trees, of everything around him.

Finally, he decides to take Yuta's advice and lays down on the grass to stare up at the clouds until they twist and transform into ordinary shapes that just feel so inherently magical.

It's a quiet day. Cold but peaceful.

Johnny doesn't think about anything the whole time.

🌻

Dating Donghyuck is wonderful.

Johnny feels lighter every time he sees him. It's odd, the effect one single person can have on your whole being. Johnny doesn't equate his whole happiness to Donghyuck; it wouldn't be fair or accurate but - _but-_ god, does Donghyuck make it all easier.

They meet as often as Donghyuck's schedule allows, for breakfast before Johnny has to be at work, for lunch in between hectic shifts, for every time in between and it goes on for months and months and Johnny doesn’t ever want to stop.

And one rainy Friday night, Johnny shows up at one am, just as Donghyuck's shift ends and takes him out to a very, very late dinner.

"This is more of a midnight snack at this point," Donghyuck points out, laughing.

"This place is excellent, trust me," Johnny promises. "Their nachos are out of this world."

"Don't you have to be awake in the morning?" Donghyuck asks, face creasing in concern. He ducks closer to him as the wind whips around them and Johnny drapes his arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. "It's really late."

"I hadn't noticed," Johnny teases. When Donghyuck glowers playfully up at him, Johnny laughs. "It's a Saturday tomorrow, I can afford to sleep in. Besides," he opens the door for Donghyuck to enter the hole in the wall shop he'd discovered in his early months of moving back to the city. "I wanted to spend time with you."

Donghyuck's lower lip pushes out. "Flirt," he accuses, tossing his nose in the air as he stalks to the table by the windows. 

"I should be calling _you_ that," Johnny tells him, happily. He orders two plates of nachos before following Donghyuck. "How was your shift?"

"Good," Donghyuck says, happily. "Really good. Slow, actually, but good. I helped a teenager today."

"Yeah?" Johnny leans closer. "What was up with them?"

Donghyuck's smile brightens as he starts telling Johnny about the kid who came into his ER today. At some point the nachos arrive, but Johnny doesn't look away from him once. Just watches Donghyuck talk, his eyes wide and happy and devoid of any ounce of exhaustion - even after a 12 hour shift - and breathes every word in. Breathes this moment in.

It's a good one.

🌻

"We're back at this bar," Johnny sighs when Donghyuck finally lets go of his arm, hand dropping down to interlace their fingers together. He'd been tugging him down the sidewalk without answering any of Johnny's questions and finally, when they come upon the same facade, Johnny's a little embarrassed. He should have realised where they were headed; the bar was only a couple of blocks from his apartment, it's why Johnny had ended up there in the first place, all those months ago.

"We are," Donghyuck says. "Because we met here, almost a year ago."

Johnny frowns down at him. "It's not that date yet, I would remember." Honestly, Johnny would be hard pressed to try and _ever_ forget that date, for two reasons.

"It's not," Donghyuck says, pushing Johnny inside before he has a chance to protest. "But I have to work then, and I guessed you'd probably like to be alone on that day."

Johnny stares at Donghyuck as he passes by him, heading to the bar, frozen in place for a beat and a half before he follows. "I wouldn't have," he says quietly.

"Really?" Donghyuck tips his head up at him as he settles into his seat. "It's okay if you did. I know it's not - I know it's a difficult day for you."

"Really," Johnny promises gently, trying to speak around the hammering of his heart, threatening to rise up in his throat. He doesn’t deserve this lovely man, he really doesn’t. Nothing he had ever done in his life had led him to deserve Donghyuck in all his loveliness. "My marriage with Doyoung was over long before I moved out and this isn't _that_ day. I would like to spend it with you, if you wanted."

"But you'll tell me." Donghyuck's gaze is unwavering, searching. "You'll tell me when that day rolls around - when you want to be alone."

Johnny tugs their still intertwined hands up and kisses the back of Donghyuck's hand. "I will," he says softly. "Thank you."

Donghyuck leans off the stool to return the kiss on Johnny’s mouth, sweet and soft. "Thank _you_ ," he murmurs against Johnny’s mouth. "I'll move my shifts around."

They trip out of the bar, hours later, Donghyuck clinging to Johnny’s arm, and laughing a touch too high as Johnny tugs him out of the way of passerby. 

“You’re drunk,” Johnny says fondly. 

“‘M not,” Donghyuck argues, peering up at him, and blinking several times, very hard. “I’m just tipsy.” His hand latches onto Johnny’s chest and pulls him over to the side of the bar, in the narrow alley before tugging him down to his level, pressing a firm kiss to Johnny’s mouth. Their lips part almost instantly, the kiss deepening from a simple motion to something more. 

Johnny slides his hand under Donghyuck’s chin and tips his head up further, sliding his tongue along Donghyuck’s, making him shiver. Donghyuck’s fingers clench against Johnny’s chest. His lips are soft and he tastes like sharp gin, lime and something underneath it all that is inherently Donghyuck. 

They part, breathing unsteadily and Donghyuck stares up at him, his lips glossy and parted prettily. 

“Will you take me to your home, Johnny?” Donghyuck asks and it’s like being shoved under an ice cold waterfall, like waking up from the best dream, only to realise that the real nightmare was all around him. 

Johnny swallows and steps back, his hands sliding down Donghyuck’s jaw, following the curve of his neck before they drop off his body entirely. “I should just take you back to your house,” Johnny says quietly. “You have work-”

“My roommate told me very expressly that if I came home on his one free night in a month and interrupted his date, he would kill me,” Donghyuck says matter-of-factly, the smile fading from his face as he keeps on gazing at Johnny. “Why don’t you want me to see your apartment?” 

Johnny closes his eyes. He could easily circumvent this conversation, Donghyuck’s tipsy enough to let it happen but then Johnny would just head back home to his still empty place, with the still bare walls and the still unpacked boxes and he would still be alone. The awful thing is he _wants_ to tell Donghyuck, he wants to tell him about every ugly, sad part, lay it out all in front of him and then wonder if its enough to make him stay. If he would still leave. “It’s part of that sadness,” he breathes, finally. “It’s not a home, Hyuck. It’s just - it’s a place that I go to sleep and eat. It’s not - it’s not a good part of me.”

There’s a beat and then Donghyuck’s hands are latching onto his cheeks. Johnny’s eyes flutter open to see Donghyuck stretching up onto his tiptoes and he automatically balances him, hands landing on his waist. “I want to know you, Johnny Seo,” Donghyuck whispers, his eyes unwavering, his voice steady. “Every part, even the parts you think are sad, and aren’t good enough. I want every piece of you, if you’ll let me have it. So, stop thinking you aren’t enough. You are plenty.”

Johnny swallows and then leans down to press their foreheads together. _I love you_ , he thinks all of a sudden. It’s not shocking but like a lightbulb flashing on in the dark; one second, nothing, and the next the blinding flash of realisation that reveals what he already knew, deep down. _I love him_. “Okay,” he whispers instead of saying all the words and thoughts clamouring at the back of his tongue. “Okay.”

Johnny’s apartment is pretty much the same way it was when he first moved in. There’s the slight improvement of an actual bed and even a couple of pots and pans, and his cactus is surprisingly still very alive, but otherwise - it’s the same. There are opened boxes scattered all over the living room floor, his books and old cameras spilling out, and the door to his bedroom is thrown wide open, the comforter spilling off half the bed. 

Johnny tries not to blush as he lets Donghyuck in. “Welcome to my place,” he says quietly. 

Donghyuck follows Johnny’s lead and toes off his shoes, looking around the place. “I like the cactus,” he says and Johnny huffs a quiet laugh. 

“Thank you, I’m surprised it lasted this long.” 

“Why?” Donghyuck asks, stepping further into the apartment and turning around to look at Johnny. His eyes are luminous in the dim light, the moonlight shining through the windows. He twirls around to look around Johnny’s place and nearly stumbles. Johnny catches him before he falls. “I like it,” Donghyuck says firmly, throwing his arms up around Johnny’s neck and pressing a kiss to his cheeks, again and again. “I like it and I like you. A lot.”

Johnny smiles. “I like you too,” he says quietly. “Do you want to sleep with me tonight, Hyuck?” 

“Just sleep?” Donghyuck laughs prettily, kissing him again. 

“Just sleep,” Johnny agrees. 

“Okay,” Donghyuck hums.

Donghyuck curls up around him when they fall into bed and Johnny presses his cheek to the top of his head, holding him tight. Donghyuck breathes slow and steady into the crook of his neck and Johnny closes his eyes. _I like you so much_.

🌻

When Johnny wakes up, the bed is empty. 

He scrubs at his eyes and casts a glance around his room. There’s sounds of rummaging and light clinking coming from outside his room and when Johnny makes his way out to the living room, he finds Donghyuck sitting cross legged in the middle of the room between several open boxes. Rain is lashing against the windows, hard and heavy and Donghyuck is sitting there, glowing like a tiny sun.

“Hey,” Johnny says, his voice rough around the edges. 

Donghyuck looks up at him with a wide smile. “You’re awake,” he greets softly before he waves his hand around at the boxes, biting his lip. “I - um- I thought I would help. Is that okay?” 

Johnny tips his head against the doorjamb and gazes at him. Donghyuck’s wearing one of his shirts, and it hangs off him loose and big; he looks small and so beautiful, his hair fluffed up around his head, fading pillow creases still on the curve of his jaw and neck. “You’re too good to me,” Johnny says, coming forward to crouch beside Donghyuck. He takes the book from Donghyuck’s hand and leans in to press a kiss to the corner of Donghyuck’s mouth. 

“I disagree,” Donghyuck says sweetly, his hand coming up to cradle Johnny’s cheek before he pulls away. 

Johnny hums. “You want coffee?” 

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says, taking the book back and shooing Johnny up. “I’ll do this, you go make me food.” 

“Deal.”

When he’s finished making coffee and toast, Johnny turns around to see Donghyuck pulling out his cameras, inspecting them with a curious gaze before carefully laying them down in the corner. He walks over to Donghyuck and sits down beside him, handing him a cup. 

Donghyuck wordlessly holds up a camera in silent question and Johnny smiles. It’s obviously beaten up, there’s scratches around the side, and old mud on the straps. “My first camera,” he says quietly. “My aunt bought it for me when I was twelve.”

“It’s cute,” Donghyuck says, taking a sip.

“Hey,” Johnny says and waits until Donghyuck looks up at him curiously before he swallows hard, takes a shaky breath and continues, “I love you.” 

Donghyuck blinks once, twice and then smiles, so pretty and beautiful that it takes Johnny’s breath away. “I love you too.”

🌻

Johnny is just about to enter Yuta’s office when Yuta barges outside, slamming the door behind him. 

“I don’t think you should be here,” he says breathlessly, red high on his cheeks. “Johnny-”

Johnny frowns. “What? What’s wrong with you?” He tries to slide by Yuta but Yuta plants himself firmly in front of Johnny. 

“I really, _really_ don’t think you should go inside right now, I-”

The door swings open. “Stop being so dramatic, Yuta,” comes a cool voice and Johnny’s heart freezes in his chest. He _knows_ that voice. “I’m not going to kill him.”

Yuta shuts his eyes for a beat before he heaves a huge sigh and steps aside. 

“Hello, Johnny,” Doyoung says lightly. “Long time.”

Johnny stares and stares before something in him finally unlocks and he chokes out. “What - _Doyoung_?”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “Close your mouth, Johnny, you look ridiculous.”

Johnny snaps his mouth shut and squares his shoulders, feeling something hard solidify into his back, straightening his spine. “What are you doing here?”

Doyoung smiles a little, but nothing about it is very nice. “What do you think?” He sighs and straightens his coat. “I’d like to talk - if that’s okay with you.” 

“Well, clearly you don’t care what I think, given you’ve just shown up at my workplace,” Johnny bites out, feeling his jaw clench.

Doyoung smirks. “Yes. Come on, Johnny. I’ll buy you breakfast.”

“I’ve already eaten.”

“You can eat again.” Doyoung waves to Yuta before brushing past Johnny, to the elevator again. “You always did have a voracious appetite.”

They walk down the street in silence. A block away sits a new photography exhibition Johnny’s wanted to see for weeks - he’s waiting for Donghyuck though. He won’t bring Doyoung there.

“This seems like a nice place,” Doyoung says and Johnny follows his gaze. It’s a nondescript brunch place and given that it’s a Tuesday morning, there’s practically no one there, despite the bright and sunny weather. 

“Fine,” Johnny shrugs and follows him through the door. 

“You grew out your hair,” Doyoung observes when they find a seat. “It’s… different.” 

Johnny brushes his hair back, self consciously. There are a couple of gray strands in Doyoung’s hair and it sends a current of something running through Johnny - not pleasure exactly, but some tiny semblance of gratification that his ex-husband was also running through the same wheel of time as he was. “Donghyuck likes it.”

“Yes, I heard all about your little boyfriend,” Doyoung says. “Not like you to chase after jailbait.” 

Johnny scowls. “He’s only five years younger than me.” 

“Mmmm.”

Johnny sighs. “What do you want, Doyoung?” 

Doyoung looks at him and then sits up straighter - as if his back wasn’t already ramrod straight - and says, “I’m getting married.” 

Despite himself, Johnny snorts. “That was quick.”

Doyoung’s face sharpens and Johnny smirks at it. “You moved on pretty fast too, if I recall.”

“But we’re not here for me,” Johnny points out. “That’s why you were at Yuta’s?”

Doyoung shrugs. “Just a preliminary meeting, nothing’s been decided yet.”

“God save him,” Johnny murmurs, thinking of the amount of effort that had gone into their wedding. 

Doyoung purses his lips and Johnny sighs again. He’s already exhausted and it’s only nine in the morning. “Is that what you came all the way down here for? To tell me you were getting married again? Were you expecting me to shed some tears or…?” 

“I thought it would be prudent to let you know that I was going to be working with Yuta in the near future,” Doyoung says icily. 

“Always prudent,” Johnny says bitterly, thoughtfully. “I hope you don’t expect me to be your photographer.”

“God no,” Doyoung says, a mild undercurrent of disgust to his tone. “Which… Is that what you do now, Johnny? A wedding photographer?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Johnny snaps, bristling. 

“What happened to the person I knew?” Doyoung asks archly. “What happened to Johnny Seo, the famous artist?” 

“You happened,” Johnny bites out tightly. “You happened to me. Forgive me if I don’t manage to move on as easily as you seem to have.”

“Oh, so we should have just never divorced and spent the rest of our lives together, hating each other?” Doyoung demands. 

“No, of _course_ not, but-”

“If your life is sad and empty that is entirely your fault,” Doyoung snaps. “You do not get to pin that on me.” “My life is not sad _or_ empty,” Johnny snarls, his hand clenching into a fist under the table. 

“And you seem to be handling it terrifically,” Doyoung laughs bitterly. He looks away gathering himself before taking a deep breath. “You know what, it’s not my problem anymore. _You_ are not my problem anymore. I’m moving on and you keep on remaining the same sad man you were when you left. I’m stepping away.”

Johnny snorts. “You’re forgetting you already did that, Doyoung. Long, long before I moved out. Before you even handed me the divorce papers, you stepped away.”

🌻

**hyuckie**

are you awake?

**old man**

im awake

despite my better judgement

**hyuckie**

good 

ill see you in a couple hours

i want those nachos again

**old man**

ill be waiting at the restaurant

are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?

**hyuckie**

theres no point

you don’t have to walk twice the amount

can’t strain those old knees

**old man**

five years difference and you think youre the fountain of youth

youre technically in your 30s now too

you know that right?

**hyuckie**

i am forever young

gotta go 

talk to you later old man xx

Donghyuck’s late. 

Johnny glances down at his phone again to see if any new texts have come in but his screen is still blank. Still empty. Donghyuck’s probably still caught up in a surgery or something and Johnny forces it out of his mind. 

“Can I get another water?” He asks.

The guy behind the counter looks up. “Yeah, of course.”

Johnny looks down at his hands and forces himself to breathe. Doyoung’s words have been running around and around his head for days and Johnny hasn’t been able to stop thinking about their conversation. 

What if this was it for him? What if, despite all Donghyuck’s assurances, at some point he’d get bored of Johnny and leave? What if Johnny was forever stuck in this place, stuck in this rut? Never able to move forward?

The clock ticks forty five minutes past when they were supposed to meet and Johnny swallows, tries to resist the urge to put his head down on the table. 

What if he was the one holding Donghyuck back?

“Hey, man,” the cashier says, coming around to hand Johnny his third water. “You shouldn’t worry.”

Johnny looks up and takes it with a sigh. “I know,” he says. “I just-”

“No, I mean,” the man lets out an awkward cough. “You two are in here constantly, man. You shouldn’t worry, I’m sure he didn’t stand you up.”

Johnny nods. “I know,” he says. He grabs his coat and hands the man whatever cash he has in his wallet. “Thanks, I’m going to head out.” 

“You don’t need to pay me - the water was free,” the man calls after him. 

Johnny waves his hand over his shoulder as he pushes the door him. “Keep it, thanks!”

The hospital is calm and silent when Johnny arrives. The lobby is void of people, except for the two receptionists and a few nurses milling about. Johnny texts Donghyuck again but receives no response. 

“Mr. Seo?” 

Johnny spins around to see one of Donghyuck’s interns standing there, clutching a clipboard to his chest. Johnny vaguely recognises him, hovering around Donghyuck as Johnny had waited for him to finish up work. “Hey, hi,” he says quickly. “Is Donghyuck okay?”

The intern’s nose twitches. “Um, yeah, he’s fine. He’s okay.”

“Oh,” Johnny’s shoulders drop in relief. “Oh, that’s good. We were supposed to meet a while ago, I was worried something happened.” 

The intern shakes his head. “He just um - I can take you to him, if you want. I think he’d like to see you.”

Johnny blinks. “Oh. Okay.”

The intern nods jerkily and leads Johnny to the elevator and then down a dizzying array of hallways before he stops at a corner. “He’s right there,” he whispers. “I think he’s still in shock, kinda, so be nice okay?” 

“What?” Johnny asks in confusion but the intern is already scurrying down the hallway. Johnny watches him go before cautiously turning the corner. Donghyuck’s sitting on an empty gurney, staring at his hands. His mask is still hanging down off his neck, and he doesn’t look up when Johnny nears him. “Hey, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck doesn’t look up, doesn’t move until Johnny sinks to his heels in front of Donghyuck, peering up at his face. “Hyuck? Donghyuck?” Johnny repeats carefully. He waits a moment and then softly says, “Can you look at me, please? Just for a second?” 

There’s an agonising wait and then Donghyuck finally, slowly, _incrementally_ , shifts his eyes up to meet Johnny’s. 

“Hey,” Johnny breathes, relieved that at least Donghyuck isn’t catatonic. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Donghyuck swallows and then he opens his mouth and a jerky noise that sounds half like a sob, half like a cry for help spills out. “I lost-” he chokes, chest heaving all of a sudden, sparking to life from that terrifyingly still statue Johnny had found. “I lost - he - I lost him.” His hands crumple tightly against his pants, nails digging into his thighs. “He _died_ ,” he gasps, bending over, breath hitching hard in his chest. “He - he -” he breaks off, panting hard and Johnny scrambles up and gently nudges Donghyuck’s head between his knees. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says panicked. “Donghyuck, just breathe for me.”

“I - I - _can’t_ ,” Donghyuck gasps, his nails tightening and Johnny leans in to pry his hand off, wrapping his hand tightly around his, wincing when Donghyuck’s nails dig into the flesh of his palm.

“You can,” he insists. “I know you can, just count to three with me and take deep breaths.” He counts slow and steady for Donghyuck, rubbing his free hand over Donghyuck’s spine, counting again and again, until Donghyuck’s desperate gasps shudder into quiet, slower pants. “Keep going,” Johnny says quietly, not ready to let him go yet.

Donghyuck nods into his legs and his hand loosens a little around Johnny’s. 

Johnny keeps counting for him, and holds on, waits until Donghyuck finally, finally looks up. 

“Hey,” Johnny says, a small, relieved smile spreading over his face. 

“Hi,” Donghyuck breathes and chokes on a tiny sob. Johnny wraps his arm around Donghyuck’s shoulders and pulls him in and Donghyuck takes a shuddering breath, as he buries his face into the crook of Johnny’s neck. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” Johnny says, holding him tightly. “Do you - do you want to talk about it?” 

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Not yet,” he whispers and it shakes. Johnny aches for him. “Not now.” 

“Okay,” Johnny swallows, and kisses the top of his head. “Okay, whenever you want, I’m here for you.” He feels Donghyuck’s fingers clench in his shirt. 

He takes another shaky breath. “Thank you.” 

Johnny kisses his head again. “Always.”

🌻

The rain is lashing against the window when Donghyuck stirs awake. 

Johnny woke up a while before him and he’d just been laying there, watching Donghyuck twitch in his sleep, his nose wrinkling up cutely as he dreams, wishing he had a camera nearby to capture him. He didn’t want to move though, not even for a second. 

“Hey there sleepyhead,” Johnny teases gently when Donghyuck peers up at him, yawning widely. He’d been draped all over Johnny’s body and his muscles scream in relief when Donghyuck shifts over.

“Mmph,” Donghyuck sighs, stretching his arms out and nearly knocking over Johnny’s lamp as he does so. There’s a definite change in the ambience since Johnny brought Donghyuck to his apartment, all those months ago. Donghyuck had taken it upon himself to drag Johnny out shopping when he could and helped him set up a bedside table, new bookshelves that sit in Johnny’s living room, even going so far as to take him couch shopping which is how Johnny ended up with a giant leather monster taking up half the space in his apartment. Johnny started feeling much more welcoming towards it after Donghyuck had fucked him on it though. He has a couple more cactuses now, as well, lining the window sill of his bedroom. 

“Were you just watching me sleep?” Donghyuck asks, lazily turning into Johnny’s body again, throwing a leg over him and tucking his chin up on Johnny’s collarbone to squint up at him. “Creepy old man.”

“You looked too irresistible, how could I not?” Johnny asks, mouth twitching and Donghyuck’s eyes drift shut again, smiling sleepily. 

“Damn right, I looked irresistible,” he sighs, pushing out his lips. “Kiss me.” 

“Why can’t you kiss me?” Johnny grouses playfully but he’s already bending down to Donghyuck. “Why is it always me doing all the work?” 

“I’m lazy, aren’t you lucky?” Donghyuck mumurms just as their lips meet. They both have morning breath and it shouldn’t be nice, but god it is. It’s easy and relaxed and Johnny melts into it, revelling in the happy noises Donghyuck lets out as he twines his fingers in Johnny’s hair, arching up to him like a sunflower does to meet the sun. 

“Very,” Johnny admits and Donghyuck laughs. 

“You have more gray in your hair now,” he mumbles, running his hands through Johnny’s hair. “I like it.”

“You like everything about me,” Johnny says, affecting a weary tone. 

Donghyuck sighs and it’s an gently happy sound. “I do.”

They fuck lazily, still wrapped up in each other. Donghyuck lets out the softest, prettiest noise when Johnny slowly pushes into him, pressing open mouthed kisses to every inch of him he can reach. Donghyuck’s skin is warm, burning hot and he’s pliant in Johnny’s hands. He rides Johnny slowly, thigh muscles shifting and clenching under Johnny’s hands as he barely rises and falls, the grind hard and deep.

“You’re pretty,” Johnny murmurs, his hands running up the length of Donghyuck’s torso, curling over his arms. Even with barely any sun filtering in through the open windows, Donghyuck looks like he’s shining. Golden and beautiful. 

Donghyuck hums, dropping down to drape himself over Johnny and kissing him, licking deep into his mouth until they’re both panting against each other. “I love you,” he whispers. “I love you so much, Johnny.” 

Johnny wraps his arms around him, holding him tight. “I love you too.”

🌻

“I love ducks,” Donghyuck sighs. Johnny looks over at him and snorts. They’re sitting on the grass, spread out on a blanket, watching the ducks waddle around on the banks of the lake. Winter is upon them, and the trees surrounding the park are covered in lights, and it’s cold but Johnny is properly bundled up and Donghyuck is beside him - his own personal sun. 

“I know,” he says, then pauses and sighs. “Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck looks up at him. “Yeah?” 

“I don’t know how to say this,” Johnny starts carefully, because this is a beautiful moment and he doesn’t want to shatter it. But he also wants to say this. He wants to get this out of his head and his heart. “I don’t want to you think - I just-”

“Hey,” Donghyuck says, brows furrowing. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t want you to regret this,” Johnny blurts and Donghyuck stares at him, falling silent. “I mean, in the future, later, I don’t want you to regret you sticking with an old divorcee and… Regret _me_.”

Donghyuck nods and then turns around to fully face Johnny, tucking his legs underneath him. “Okay,” he says. “Here are my fears then: I work all the time, I never leave the hospital, my job has been my life for the last ten years and that won’t be changing anytime soon. I obsess over my job. _All_ the time. And I’ve never had a stable relationship the whole time because no one has ever been able to accept that about me. Does that send you running for the hills?” 

“No,” Johnny breathes. “Nothing would - no, it doesn’t.”

“Exactly,” Donghyuck says softly. “It doesn’t matter to me that you’ve been married once, or that it didn’t work out for you. It doesn’t matter that you’re scared because I am too sometimes. _You_ matter to me and I know I matter to you and that’s all, really.” 

Johnny looks at him and runs through every moment they’ve had together. Runs through the last year and a half, of all the loneliness, and the happiness and the ups and downs and realises that even if this does fail, even if he is left alone again with another gaping hole left to patch up, he wants to _try_. Johnny wants to stay right by Donghyuck’s side and have every conversation in the world with him, and hold his hand and kiss him and just… Just be with him. 

He doesn’t think it’ll fail though. The hope is a strange fluttering thing at the base of his ribs, pushing up his heart, lifting it higher and higher. He feels lucky this time.

“Perspective,” Johnny whispers. 

Donghyuck grants him a beautiful smile. “Yeah, perspective.”

“We’ll work it out.”

“Yes, we will.”

“Okay,” Johnny whispers and he clutches tight to Donghyuck’s hand. “Okay.”

🌻

Snow starts falling as they leave the park and Donghyuck laces their fingers together, tugging a little to get Johnny’s attention. “How’s that sadness old man?”

Johnny smiles. “How’s yours?”

Donghyuck hums. A couple of snowflakes land in his hair. He look ethereal. “Currently? Nonexistent.”

“What a coincidence,” Johnny says, the smile spreading wider. “Mine too.”

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you thought, i could use a nice comment after this one 
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/_donghyuck_)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/thereisnoreality)


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